


Woe for the Two-Thousand year reign of the Fish! (Additional Runes of the Kalevala)

by Rabbit



Category: Finnish Mythology, Mythology - Finnish, The Kalevala
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:45:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabbit/pseuds/Rabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Additional Runes concerning the departure of the wizards from the Kalevala, and the early part of the Reign of the Son of Mariatta, and what Ilmarinen the Smith and Lemmenkainen did after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. RUNE L-- The Banishment of Wizards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gileonnen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gileonnen/gifts).



> Very much truncated, I hope to finish the additional runes!

There are no more maidens laughing,  
No more darksome, Lapland daughters,  
No more sisters of the heavens,  
No more virgins of old Louhi,  
Fit to bring the sun down courting,  
Fit to wed the moon's brave children  
Fitly paired to Gods and Heroes,  
On the fields of Kalevala.

Now come creeping, hooded minstrels,  
But their songs are harsh and broken:  
Forged they were with finest metals,  
Fed they were on ocean whiting,  
On the choicest breads and fishes,  
But their manners are ill-tempered,  
And their clothes are dull as ashes,  
And their voices are unpleasant:  
Dirges do not quicken heroes.  
Nonetheless, with songs enchanting,  
Nonetheless, their hard spells croaking,  
Do they creep up from the southland,  
Fill the ears of brightest virgins,  
Drown out songs of Wizard heroes,  
Till they dress themselves in ashes,  
Cloak themselves in horrid habits,  
Wed themselves to contemplation,  
Wed themselves not unto heroes,  
But to the son of Mariatta,  
Child-king of all the Northland,  
He who scolded Vanaimoinen,  
Keeper of the harp of beauty.

What of Ilmarinen sturdy?  
What of Lemminkainen cunning?  
Will the four winds fuel the forge-fires  
Bring to life the sacred bellows?  
Feed the wonders of the Noble  
Ilmarinen heavy-hearted?

No more sitting Louhi's daughters,  
No more glow the brides of beauty,  
Offered to the heroes haughty,  
From the fields of Kalevala,  
Gone the copper-belted maidens,  
Laughing with their silver tresses,  
Feeding on the dainty whiting,  
To be wooed by Ilmarinen,  
Worthy for dark Lemmenkainen.

In the great halls of Wainola,  
Where the king of all the Northland,  
Named by Ukko Son of Heaven,  
Called to him smith Ilmarinen,  
Brought before him Lemmenkainen,  
Brought before his throne of glory,  
Bid them kneel before his splendor,  
Sat before their works in judgment,  
Haughty son of Mariatta.  
Spoke the King of Kalevala,  
"Gone is trusty Vainamoinen,  
Gone the old and true Enchanter,  
He has sailed for halls uncharted,  
Gone to seas and homes uncounted,  
Left he here his harp of splendor,  
For the glory of the Northland,  
For the children of Kalevala.

"Who is worthy to play it for us,  
Sacred harp of Vainamoinen?  
Who can sing the stars in orbit?  
Who can sing the reindeer running?  
Who can sing the hearty maidens,  
With their belts of braided copper,  
With their silver tresses flying?  
Who can sing the north star staring,  
Sing the moonlight from the fir trees?  
Sing the Great Bear from the heavens?  
Sing the fish to feed the Northlands,  
Sing the sacred songs of joyance?  
Pleasure songs of life and beauty?  
Could it be bright Ilmarinen?  
Will he play the harp of wonder?"

Spake the Smith, his dark head tossing,  
"I am he, the sampo-forger,  
I the greatest artificer,  
I am not old Vainamoinen,  
I am not my noble brother,  
I could sing into an eagle,  
To an otter, ram, or whiting,  
To a pike, or mild lambkin,  
I can forge in gold and silver,  
Sing the four winds to my bellows,  
Sing wonders out of steel and anvil,  
Sing the hammer on the metal--  
Not the harp of Vainamoinen,  
I cannot play the songs of beauty."

Turned the king to Lemmenkainen,  
Now to wicked Kaukomieli,  
"Wilt thou take up the _Kantele_ ,  
With the wit of Vainamoinen,  
Keeper of his worldly wisdom,  
Sing the songs of life and pleasure,  
Sing the moonlight from the fir trees,  
Sing the great bear from the heavens,  
Sing the tales that he has left here,  
For the joy of Sariola,  
Children fair of bright Kalevala?"

These the words of Lemmenkainen:  
"Thou to whom Ukko has given,  
Dominion over all Suomi,  
Rulership of Kalevala,  
God and Hero of creation--  
Com'st thou with thy might to judge me,  
Judge the hearty Ilmarinen,  
As you judged old Vainamoinen?  
Judged that good and trusty wizard,  
Judged of him and found him wanting,  
Would'st examine all our singing,  
Take of us our deeds and damn us?  
I, the son of my good mother,  
She who braved the Hisi-river,  
She who conquered Tuonela,  
Knit my flesh from blood and honey,  
Submit not to thy attention,  
Though did Ukko himself raise thee,  
To thy station in the heavens,  
To thy throne in fair Wainola,  
Do not try to trick cruel Ahti,  
Do not entrap Lemmenkainen,  
Bring to shame proud Ilmarinen--  
Though might play the songs of pleasure,  
Bring the Maids and men to weeping,  
I'll not play the rare _Kantele_ ,  
Not the songs that soothed the Lapland,  
Sacred songs of fair Suomi.  
Thou wouldst take of Vainamoinen,  
Alter all his songs enchanting,  
Put them in the mouths of creepers,  
Shaven-headed men of mourning,  
Have them sing his spells as dirges.  
Never will I raise my song-voice,  
Never play the harp of joyance,  
For the child of Mountain Berry,  
To honor Mariatta's son."

Said the king of all Suomi,  
"Wicked, Haughty Lemminkainen!  
Go thou from the shores of Lapland,  
With the smith of molten idols,  
Go, who worship words and silver,  
Thy worth in gold and empty boasting--  
Thou fear'st the songs of Vainamoinen,  
Could not play the harp of joyance,  
Fear the son of Mariatta,  
Fear the hum of the _kantele_ ,  
Can'st control its wild ringing,  
Cannot stir the mild maidens,  
Nor bring mermaids from the waters,  
Nor the moon down from her birch tree,  
Nor the sun from his tall fir tree,  
Reckless, willful, braggart, Ahti--  
This the doom I place upon thee."

Then the son of Mariatta,  
King of Lapland and Kalevala,  
Took the harp of Vainimoinen,  
Lifted up the rare kantele,  
Played the songs of all creation,  
Sang as had the Ancient Minstrel,  
Bold and truthful Vanimoinen,  
Sang the smith his own pretension,  
How he made a wife of metal,  
Cold and lifeless, bright and shining,  
And how no maid came now to love him,  
No sweet wife to bring him comfort,  
Solace in his days immortal,  
"Thou shalt wander all unwedded,  
With no wife to sweep thy hearthstones,  
With no hearth for wife to tender,  
No more maidens wilst thou capture,  
No more darksome Lapland daughters,  
No more from the Lap of Louhi  
No more sisters of the heavens,  
Not for you the brides of beauty--  
Sterile smith of Wainola,  
Wander thou alone for-ever!

Then he spoke to Lemmenkainen,  
"Unforgiving of Kyllikki,  
Breaks the hearts of maids and mothers!  
Cannot list thy sins uncounted,  
Cannot tally thy wrongdoings,  
Can't describe with any number,  
All the wrongs thou hast committed!  
Share the fate of Ilmarinen:  
No more to brave the shores of Louhi,  
Nor shall capture lovely maidens,  
Nor shall hear the cuckoo's singing,  
Sacred bird of fair Wainola!  
Sterile must the heroes wander,  
Far from the fields of Kalevala."

Then the child's dreary minstrels,  
Singers of most mournful dirges,  
Raised their voices 'gainst all wizards,  
Drove them all towards Sariola,  
With their damping, death-borne magics:  
Not a one of hero-Wizards,  
Could defeat the songs of mourning.  
Sang they to the caves of Hisi,  
To the halls of Hostess Louhi:  
There she sealed up her caverns,  
Barred the doors of palace dismal,  
Shuttered horrid Sariola,  
To the voices of the minstrels,  
To all joy and to all pleasure,  
Hid she from the world forever,  
She and all Kalevala's wizards,  
In the deepest halls of silence:  
No more heroes for Kalevala.

Out then from the fields of heaven,  
So from the meadows of Wainola  
Went the wizard Lemmenkainen,  
With the hero Ilmarinen,  
Banished they from sweet Suomi,  
Stripped of sword and forge and hammer,  
Stripped of songs for their enchanting,  
Finished they their line forever,  
Having failed the king of heaven,  
Shamed by Son of Mariatta.


	2. RUNE LI-- The Curse of the child of Mariatta

Far from home the exiled heroes,  
Wandered southward from Suomi,  
Searching for some sort of solace,  
In lands that never knew the snow-sledge,  
Never ate the ocean whiting,  
Never heard of wizard-heroes,  
Never heard the songs of joyance,  
From the harp of Vainamoinen.

Spake the wizard, Ilmarinen:  
"Come now wild Lemmenkainen,  
Kaukomieli, handsome hero,  
Let us build a bark of crimson,  
Let us sail through the sunset,  
Seek out ancient Vainamoinen,  
Join him under the horizon,  
Reunited with our brother,  
At the lower verge of heaven."

Spake hot-tempered Lemmenkainen,  
"Wherefore should we seek the wizard,  
Old enchanter Vainamoinen?  
Who has left us at the mercy  
Of the son of Mariatta,  
Child of the Mountain Berry?  
Will he greet us open-handed,  
When we have been shunned by Ukko?  
First and Last of the Creators,  
He sits deaf unto our pleading,  
Does not hear our lamentations,  
Hears he not our mournful wailing,  
Nor remembers our brave doings,  
Nor our songs of hero-bravery,   
Nor the weeping of Suomi,  
Cares not for our exiled anguish,  
Lets us wander in the searing southland,  
Foreign lands, bereft of comfort,   
And the care of hearth and homeland  
How can we meet Vainamoinen,  
Come in shame and not in joyance?"

Nonetheless, young Ilmarinen,  
That eternal metal-worker,  
Set at once to build a bellows,  
Build a forge and lay a chimney,  
Of the softer southern metals,  
Of the trees that grow in southland,  
Strangely bend the southern branches,  
Odd the scent of southern softwoods;  
Yet the forge was well completed,  
With the aid of Lemmenkainen,  
Put aside his haughty anger,  
To assist his wizard brother,  
Come to help the young enchanter,  
Build the forge of their salvation.

Lemmenkainen worked the bellows,  
Clear sang Ilmarinen's hammer,  
Worked the gleaming southern metals,  
Worked a ship in burnished copper,  
Made the bark in birch and iron,  
With the wood of southern saplings,  
Formed the oars of oak and strange woods,  
From the poplar shapes the rudder,  
Then removed their golden raiment,  
Stripped they of their mighty leathers,  
Stately furs and hero-clothings,  
Sewed these into heavy sails,  
Hung them from the masts of poplar,  
So to sail through the sunset,  
Through the dim purple horizon,  
There to meet with Vanamoinen,  
With joy to embrace their brother,  
Sing with him the songs of joyance,  
In the lower vault of heaven.

Three days worked they on the vessel,  
Three times dawned the silver sun-ball,  
Three nights watched the golden moonlight,  
Distant from the sacred northlands,  
From the pleasant land of heroes.  
On the third of these hard mornings,  
Woke they to the sound of singing,  
Crowing of the sacred cuckoo,  
Fills the air with songs of pleasure,  
Tales of their sacred homeland,  
Of the cold and brutal northland,  
Of the hunt and of the snow-sledge,  
Of the deeds of ancient wizards,  
Of the comely Poyha maidens,  
Refreshing songs for wizard-heroes!

  
Sang the youthful Ilmarinen,  
"Behold here the vessel finished!  
None built fairer under heaven,  
Let us take the cuckoo's singing,   
Sacred bird of our lost homeland,  
As the best of all good omens!  
Let us brother, sail westward,  
West into the darking sunset,  
Westward to find Vainamoinen,  
Join with our brother-wizard."

And at once the sacred vessel  
Rose to Ilmarinen's singing,  
Sailed through the mists of morning,  
Rode the rays of silver sunlight,  
Through the waters of the heavens,  
On the spells of wizard-singing,  
Uttered by the smith of heaven.  
Lemmenkainen joined in singing,  
Sang the ship the noble oarsmen,  
Sang her decks with warriors plenty,  
Heralds bearing horns of copper,  
Spearmen with their banners blowing,  
Fitting bark to climb the fir tree,  
Fitting for the storm of heaven.

At the apex of the morning,  
At the sun's most lofty mooring,  
There encountered a great wailing,  
From the sun where he stood clinging  
To the branches of the fir tree,  
These words spake unto the heroes:  
"Turn thy bark back Ilmarinen,  
Turn around thou Reckless Ahti,  
Not for you a place in heaven,  
By the old and noble wizard,  
By the side of Vainamoinen,  
Wise and Trusty of Enchanters,  
Cease your wild and reckless sailing,  
Swift descend this sacred fir-tree,  
By me the Great Bear is waiting,  
On a word from mighty Ukko,  
First and last of the creators,  
Not to let your bark outpace him,  
To catch in claws the ship of wonder,  
To destroy your copper vessel,  
Hurl it down from heights in splinters,  
Teeth to worry at the pieces,  
Claws to rip and rend the fittings,  
Lest you cease your fool's ascendance,  
Reckless heroes of Wainola!"

Said the blacksmith Ilmarinen,  
"Wherefore should we turn from heaven,  
Wherefore fear the Great Bear's roaring?  
We exiled from fair Kalevala,  
Barred from sweet Suomi's meadows,  
To the lands of heat and strangeness,  
What have we left under heaven?  
All of Louhi's daughters hidden,  
All the copper-belted maidens,  
All the maids with braided tresses,  
Hidden from the hands of heroes,  
Better wait with Ancient Minstrel,  
By the side of Vainamoinen,  
To await the time of joyance:  
His return unto Kalevala!"  
Shook his head in dire warning,  
The Silver sun said to the heroes,  
"If you do not cease your climbing,  
Come the daughters of Ilmatar,  
Wilder than Wullermo's mermaids,  
Fierce and fickle airy maidens,  
To the earth their songs shall hurl you,  
Dash you into brittle pieces,  
On the rocks beneath this fir-tree!"

Lemmenkainen made no answer,  
Nor did stop his steady rowing,  
But at once Kaukomieli,  
Sang the rowers all to eagles,  
Sang himself into one greater,  
Sang the vessel to the broad Kite,  
Turned their talons to-wards heaven,  
Wild and warlike with their shrieking.  
The sun rose up a wild alarum,  
Called at once unto his brothers:  
"Swiftly daughters of Ilmatar,  
Swiftly blowing, sturdy north-wind,  
Hearty warriors of the East-Wind,  
And the West-Wind, thunder-blowing,  
And the South-Wind, storm-berating,  
Here is come Kaukomieli,  
In the guise of mighty eagle,  
With the smith Ilmarinen,  
On the back of swift kite riding--  
Come and blow them from the heavens,  
Blow them back to vault of Terra,  
I shall scorch them with my sunbeams,  
Great Bear, catch them in thy sharp claws,  
Rip the vessel into pieces,  
Worry at the bark in splinters,  
Rend the hull and strip the copper,  
Lest they join with Vainamoinen,  
In the lower verge of heaven."

Then was heard a mighty roaring,  
Then was heard a crack of thunder,  
Shaking all the fir-tree's branches,  
Set the birches all to trembling,  
Set the southern softwoods shaking,  
Set the Eagle-pinions quaking.  
Up then blew the ancient Northwind,  
And the South-Wind, bright spears flashing,  
And the East-Wind, swords increasing,  
And the West-Wind, all undaunted,  
Battered they the kite-form vessel,  
Worried they the Smith of Metals,  
Dashed they down the flock of eagles  
Towards the rocks beneath the fir-tree,  
With their rash and mighty howling,  
Stopped the tongue of Lemminkainen,  
As he clung unto the branches,  
Just below the silver sun-perch.  
Ilmarinen, crafty forger,  
Grabbed a handful of the sun-light,  
Stole the silver of the sun-beams,  
As he slid down from the heavens,  
Caught them in the fir-trees branches,  
Slowly made his way to Terra,  
Down the fir-trees silver raiment.

  
But unlucky Lemmenkainen!  
Struggled higher towards the sun-perch,  
Scorched he by the silver sun-beams,  
And the moon above him burning,  
Shrivelling his eagle-pinions,  
Till he met the Great Bear lowing,  
Caught him in his claws unyielding,  
Rent the kite-ship into pieces,  
With his teeth he stripped the eagle,  
And devoured the magic rowers,  
Dashed them all to tiny fragments,  
Till they showered from the heavens,  
Sent them hurling all in splinters,  
Like a searing rain of bale-fire,  
Like the glowing lights of Lapland,  
Lighting up the sky like mid-day,  
As the evening was descending:  
Brighter than the star of evening,  
The descent of Lemmenkainen!


	3. RUNE LII-- The second rebirth of Lemmenkainen

Then the faithful Ilmarinen,  
Searched for one night, then a second,  
Still a third for Lemmenkainen,  
For the fallen wizard hero,  
His companion in their hubris,  
These words did he sing, lamenting:  
"Oh for reckless Lemmenkainen!  
Kaukomieli, handsome hero,  
Would we'd never climbed the fir-tree,  
Built the bark of heaven-storming,  
Thought to stay with Vainamoinen!  
Cursed are we a thousand curses,  
Doomed to wander in the southlands,  
Doom to live alone and sterile,  
But for thee, my lone companion.  
Better by my side a brother  
Than to dwell alone with strangers,  
Those who never ate the whiting,  
Never swam in crystal rivers,  
Hunted the blue moose in numbers,  
Never tasted mountain salmon,  
Never knew the songs of wizards,  
Nor the songs of ancient heroes,  
Never saw the beauteous maidens,  
Nor the daughters of the rainbow,  
Dancing in Kalevala meadows,  
Heard of Lemmenkainen's battles,  
Nor of Ilmarinen's smithing!  
Sooner should I dwell in Hisi,  
Buried under mud and hoar-frost,  
Than to dwell amongst these strangers,  
Ignorant of dear Kalevala."

In the shadows of the third day,  
As the sun again was setting,  
Suddenly did Ilmarinen  
Hear a sacred cuckoo singing,  
From the branches of an oak-tree.  
Sweetest voiced of all the minstrels,  
Swift he followed, captivated,  
Followed her into a meadow,  
There discovered Lemmenkainen,  
Shattered in a hundred pieces,  
Strewn all over he the grasses,  
Cold and lifeless now is Ahti,  
On his lifeless head the cuckoo,  
Perches on his sable tresses,  
Calms the smith with lovely singing,  
Sings to him her songs of beauty,  
By what magic can the hero,  
Be returned to former glory?

In his two hands Ilmarinen  
Clutches still the shaft of sunlight,  
Holding hard the silver metal,  
Stolen from the shores of heaven:  
One cure only can he fathom,  
Now at once begins he singing,  
Gathers up the scattered pieces,  
Of his wicked brother, Ahti,  
Carries them unto his forge-place,  
Where he build the ship of wonder,  
All with wood of brightest crimson,  
And with bands of shining copper.  
Follows does the sacred cuckoo,  
Fills his heart with songs of gladness,  
Helps him work the mighty bellows,  
Build the fires hot and roaring,  
Feed unto it all in pieces,  
All the limbs of Lemmenkainen,  
Solder his broad back together,  
With the solder of the sunlight,  
Then re-work his arms, hard-knotted,  
And his thighs renewed joined to him,  
And his knees and hard-calf muscles,  
Make his hands for taught-bow drawing,  
And his head of handsome feature,  
Re-attach it to his body,  
With the bands of silver sunlight,  
Gleaming treasure of the fir-tree.  
One part only he is missing,  
One eluded all the searching  
Searching of the sacred cuckoo,  
And the smithy wise and worldly.  
But the loneliness consuming,  
Still repairs him, Ilmarinen,  
In his forge of wonder-working.

Lemmenkainen lies re-shapen,  
All his glory as it once was,  
Locks of sable o'er his shoulders,  
And his brow so nobly sculpted!  
But for one detail forgotten,  
One which set the smith to blushing--  
As he looked on Lemmenkainen,  
Lacking only breath of Ukko,  
And beneath his waist the form,  
And copper belt of slender maiden.

With this work thus far completed,  
Once did crow the lovely cuckoo,  
Twice again did start her singing,  
Three times crew into the nostrils,  
Of the sleeping Lemmenkainen,  
Then did rise Kaukomieli,  
Cried a mighty shout to heaven,  
And his eyes again did open,  
Once more brought back to the living,  
From the distant shores of Hisi,  
Spoke unto him did the Cuckoo,  
"Twice now thou from death are rescued,  
Once by bee and by your mother,  
Once by Smith and Sacred Cuckoo--  
Never more Kaukomieli,  
Will the Hisi-river yield you;  
Another death be your undoing,  
Phoya then will not release you,  
Lempo take you for his having,  
Thou shalt dwell a shade unhappy!  
So protect this, thy last body,  
Make of it a noble living,  
While thou can'st ensure its breathing,  
Thou shalt thus persist, Immortal."  
With those words, thrice crew the Cuckoo,  
Then ascended from the body,  
Disappeared into the woodland,  
Back away towards fair Suomi,  
And the meadows of Kalevala.

Through this speech sat Ilmarinen,  
Staring he upon his brother,  
Now reworked in final body,  
Shaped much like a comely maiden,  
Bright of face and sweet of feature,  
With his sable tresses braided,  
And his limbs both light and pleasing,  
Fairer than the rainbow daughters,  
Fairer than the glowing maidens,  
From the spindles of their homeland,  
Struck he by this maid of beauty,  
Looking like a comely sister,  
To the former-wizard, Ahti,  
And resolved he then completely,  
To win the maiden for his keeping.

Spake the smith, Ilmarinen,  
"Fairest daughter of the Cuckoo,  
Daughter of the forge of metals,  
And the silver bands of sunlight,  
Though thou once were Lemmenkainen,  
Reckless Hero Kaukomieli,  
Though once would I call the brother,  
Look now here with different favour,  
As a bridegroom for thy keeping!"

Straightaway did Lemmenkainen,  
With his fearsome eyes ablazing,  
Speak these words to Ilmarinen,  
In a tone of fearsome thunder,  
"Never will I, Lemmenkainen,  
Take into my furs a bridegroom!  
I, a hunter of Wainola,  
I a noble wizard Hero,  
Know I words of ancient wisdom,  
And the many battle magics,  
I can sing up shining spearmen,  
I can sing the archers ready,  
I can sing the swordsmen cunning,  
And a thousand ready warriors.  
Tamed the blessing of the adder,  
Tamed the venom of the serpent,  
In my back the strength of Black-Wolf,  
And the Black-Bear have I hunted,  
Many reindeer have I conquered,  
Taken furs to line my dwelling,  
Took the meat to feed my mother,  
Wearing all the battle raiment,  
I have gone to wars a plenty--  
I am not a Phoya maiden,  
Fit for dancing or for wooing,  
Formed to make a broom of rushes,  
Or to sweep the hearth of heroes,  
Nor to spin the finest linens,  
Make sweet stews for Blacksmith tables,  
I am wizard, I am warrior,  
And as such must thou address me,  
If thou e'er hast called me brother."

Sweeter than the sacred Cuckoo,  
Sang the voice of Lemmenkainen,  
Fairer than dark Louhi's daughters  
Seemed he unto Ilmarinen.  
'Never have I seen such beauty,  
As this new-formed Lemmenkainen,  
Brighter he than Rainbow's daughters,  
Fairer than the sun's bright maidens,  
Than the moonlight's golden daughters,  
Never seen a bride of beauty,  
Lovelier than new-shod Ahti,  
Clad in sable braided tresses,  
And the bands of silver sunlight.'

No time did the warrior give him  
For his suit to ply and argue--  
For at once did hear a calling,   
Hear a clear and fervent pleading,  
From the Isles of the Westland,  
Where the fog sits thick and heavy,  
And the gates to realms of faeries,  
Glimmer in the golden twilight,  
Heard they both a call for heroes,  
Call for smiths who work in metals,  
Call for warriors skilled in battle,  
Even warriors clad like maidens,  
Made they up their minds to go there,  
And to seek the Breton peoples,  
In the land that men call Dwina,  
On their Island cold and distant,  
There to make another fortune.


End file.
